𝟗𝟒 - 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞

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TW - GRAPHIC VIOLENCE DESCRIPTIONS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF TORTURE, SUGGESTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT. PROCEED WITH DISCRETION

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"You going to give me anything yet?" asked the Deatheater, resting his bloody knuckles for a moment as he waited for her response, she didn't say anything -- she just hung there with her arms above her head, her feet barely touching the floor as every breath she took felt like she was dragging her lungs through her windpipe.

He crouched down in front of her, and lifted her chin to look at him.

"So stubborn... and for what? You're only making things worse for yourself."

Her blazing purple eyes glared at him, her nostril-flared in disgust as he dragged his finger down her face, she mumbled something and he brought his ear down to hear her properly.

"Go fuck yourself." she spat.

She suddenly thrust her knee upwards into his gut -- he doubled over onto the floor as she tried her luck at trying to unhook her chains from the meat hook drilled into the wall above her head -- but nothing, just as she had another idea spring to her mind she was sucker-punched in the stomach, winding her.

Her strength left her as her knees buckled, he threw another punch on her cheek, this time she winced -- the white-hot pain of a ring splitting her flesh was blinding, she felt blood building in her mouth as he landed another punch into her side which rocked her body to one side.

With a wet cough she spat out the mouthful of blood, "Give up yet?" She asked him.

Before he could respond, he was pulled away from her.

"That's enough, Rowle... she's subdued..." said a cold voice as she saw the bottom of someone's robes as they entered her cell. "You will leave us."

She heard the cell close once again, and she could feel him looking at her warily, analysing her as though he contemplating whether or not she was a true threat to him. After all, she was his prisoner and he had gone through every means of keeping her here, yet the day she was transported here she had managed to overpower one of the guards for his wand -- they stunned her before she could free herself, but she is cunning and patient, waiting for the precise opportune moment that would guarantee her freedom.

She could feel his mind licking at her own, trying to find any fractures or cracks to slip into but she was a smooth slippery surface, she could even sense his impatience at that.

"You're more than capable of understanding why you were brought here, perhaps we can come to an understanding of one another, discuss terms of your surrender to me... I am a merciful lord and I see no value in torturing you when there is more to be gained from having you beside me."

She laughed, a low humourless laugh.

"I feel sorry for you, for honestly believing that I would ever submit to you and your beliefs."

He looked at her, his eyes fixed on hers.

He stepped closer to her, she could feel the cold radiating of his skin from the few inches between them.

"They buried you, you know... they held a funeral for you. You, are dead to them so no one will come to rescue you, why would anyone look for a dead body?" he asked her coldly, "You have such a strong belief that they will find you that you're willing to endure hours of pain, endless subjecture of torture simply because you're too prideful to omit anything about their organisation?" He asked her coldy, "You've already proven that you're capable of many great things, you can achieve so much more with my power beside yours, we can share our knowledge with one another and be equals."

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